Flushed
by Laury the Latrator
Summary: "Oh... Lisbon, this is ludicrous!" "Your face is ludicrous!" / or, Lisbon gets smashed and shows up on Jane's doorstep. Whatever will they do? / Jisbon one-shot, with many mentions of alcohol and a curse or two.


"Oh... Lisbon, this is ludicrous!" Patrick Jane exclaimed upon seeing a very clearly inebriated Agent Lisbon at his Sacramento apartment door.

"Your face is ludicrous." She taunted back, and though the entire phrase was completely sophomoric, Jane couldn't help but be impressed by her coherence. Not only was she swaying slightly on her feet, but she smelled of whisky and tequila and a whole host of other spirits he couldn't quite identify. Going off this information, and seeing as it was getting to be close to 2 in the morning and he knew for a fact Lisbon had finally left the CBI at around 9pm, it was likely she had been drinking for at least 3 hours.

Now, there were several dangers involved with inviting her in. The most pressing being that with her hair and clothes disheveled like that she was the most alluring thing he'd seen in a while. Her makeup, slightly heavier than usual, was smudged around her eyes and mouth (not enough to prove she'd been kissing someone, a small visceral part of him was pleased to note). Her rich green eyes were sullenly glaring at him with a heretofore unseen shimmer. Yes, Jane concluded, there was a definite danger about being around Teresa when she was this appealing and this impaired.

However, he conceded as he instantly reached an arm out to steady her after a particularly bad tip, there was no way he was going to leave her alone in this state. After this silent moment of contemplation, Jane basically dragged Lisbon over the threshold.

"Hey, watch it!" She objected harshly, "I have a gun... somewhere..."

"I believe you," He assured her as he sat her down in one of his dining room chairs, hesitantly letting go once he was sure she wouldn't topple over. She began patting herself in search of her missing weapon. While it was quite comical to watch, Jane grew impatient. "You probably dropped it off at home." She took a moment to process this. Satisfied with that answer, she looked to him, glazed eyes squinting a little.

"What are you doing here?"

"This is where I live." He countered incredulously.

"Oh..." A pause. "Then... what am I doing here?" Jane groaned in exasperation and collapsed into the chair opposite her.

"How on Earth would I know?" Her expression turned sour.

"Don't you know everything, Mister Super Awesome Mentalist Man?" He gaped at her in offense.

"So you just came over to mock me, is that it?"

"No!" She shot back, before faltering. "I don't think." Patrick raked a hand through his curls, noticing the dizzy way she followed his movements.

"I don't understand, how did you even get like this?" Lisbon gave a little giggle.

"I drank, stupid, how d'ya think?"

"Oh, I'm stupid?" He countered mildly, "You're the one who can't see straight."

"Can too," She said, inadvertently crossing her eyes as she did so. Jane just shook his head.

"What I meant was, you're usually so responsible when it comes to alcohol. What could possibly drive you into such a state?" Lisbon scowled, though this one was tinged with something closer to sadness than anger.

"Yeah, I'm responsible. Everyone else is allowed to cut loose and drink themselves silly, but not 'Saint Teresa.' I'm always _reasonable_ and _mature_ and... fucking _calm_. Because I have a sob story past, right? Well, you know all about that don't you, Jane." He glanced away. "The thing no one seems to get... is that with all this... emotional depth... comes the urge to lash out _more_ and drink _more_ and do stupid self-destructive things _more_!" She stared at him, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy. Her brow furrowed in despair before she added, "I hate people! Why do they exist?" With that, Lisbon let her head hit his dining room table with an extra loud thump. He cringed.

"Er, well..." He hedged before shaking his head and ignoring her plea altogether. "Why don't you tell me what you did tonight."

"I drank. A lot." She answered without raising her head. Jane rolled his eyes.

"I was hoping to get a bit more detail, Lisbon. Start from when you left the CBI." She finally looked at him, annoyance coloring her features. "Please?" Grunting her assent at his unusual display of etiquette, her face screwed up as she tried to recall the earlier events.

"I got home. I was..." Here he noted she was definitely providing a half-truth. "...lonely, so I decided to take myself out. I changed clothes, did... make-up stuff, and went... elsewheres"

"Okay then," He prodded, "Where did you go?"

"This bar near my house. It has a green sign and was all dark inside." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Getting frustrated would do no good.

"Fantastic. So. At the bar? What happened?" A serene smile appeared at this memory.

"Someone bought me a beer." She told him, her tone turning just a tinge coy. Jane sighed at both her obvious delight over the event and her continuing affinity for such a coarse drink. "We talked for a while and he was nice... but then he went away... that was not so nice." Lisbon pouted slightly, and it was enough to make him regret the pleasure he felt that she had not gone home with anyone that night. "After that no one else came to try and pick me up so I drank alone. Things..." Her face contorted at the effort to remember, "...get hazy after that. I were just— I guess I _was_ just sad. The bartender, his name was Richie, super hot, took my keys. It was okay though, 'cause he hailed me a cab right after. It might've been 'cause I told him I was a cop, but I'd like to think he liked me. That'd be nice." She propped her lolling head up with her hand, a content little smile tugging at her lips. There was silence as he realized she wasn't about to go on.

"And then? How did you end up here?"

"Uh... I dunno. I fell asleep in the cab."

"But you gave them my address." He deducted with no little amount of bemusement. "How did you even know where I—"

"Oh that's right!" Lisbon interjected with a burst of exuberance, "I wanted to sleep with you!" His jaw dropped.

"Er..." That was an unforeseen twist. Not that he hadn't noticed the physical attraction between them — on her part as well, he did _so_ love making her blush — but Jane had always figured her qualms about his personality, behavior, and fantasies of murder would prevent her from acting upon it. Which, most days, was fine with him. The status quo, while agonizing at times like these, was nonetheless safe — for both of them. He, as there were no glaring faults of Teresa's to put him off, relied on his enormous recesses of self-control.

Thinking it over, it made sense that only copious amounts of alcohol would make his obvious character flaws seem trivial to the no-nonsense detective.

"Yeah!" She grinned, still excited about having recalled her motivation. "I was bummed, see 'cause no one at the bar wanted me, and I thought of you!" She frowned, her previous logic catching up to her. "Well sheep dip... that's dumb." He couldn't help it. He laughed. It was slightly hysterical and not at all mirthful.

"Yes, if you say so, extremely dumb."

"'Cause you just wanna have sex with your wife." Jane froze as if struck. "Makes sense, a'course." She added thoughtfully, looking unseeingly towards the window which showed only blackness. "Tha's good. I'd like someone who loved me that much." She yawned, breaking his paralysis.

"You're tired." He informed her softly. "You should sleep."

"Don' you hypanatize me, Jane." She said blearily, her head already coming to rest on her arms.

"Oh don't worry, I'm pretty sure that would be pointless." Patrick sighed, as it was clear Lisbon was dead to the world. He sat there pondering the strange and unexpected exchange for a very long time. He sighed again.

At least the next morning would be interesting.

* * *

The gentle rays of sunlight peaked through a window, offering warmth and peace to the messy haired figure within.

Of course, Teresa didn't see it that way. Her head pounded with each beat of her heart, the light streaming through her eyelids unbearably bright. While she was normally blessed with a fast metabolism and mild hangovers, today seemed to be the exception. She moaned pitifully.

Then came the inevitable question: _what did I do last night?_

"Rise and shine, buttercup!" A loud and grating voice intruded upon her misery. She groaned, swatting an arm towards the offending sound. The irritant merely chuckled. Although... that laugh sounded awfully familiar. "Now, Lisbon, is that anyway to treat me? After I've given you all my hospitality?" Puzzlement overcoming her fatigue, she cracked her eyes open.

It was blurry at first, the colors too vibrant and the whites too intense. However, they began to arrange themselves into vaguely normal patterns.

This... was not her house.

The shock of that discovery had her sit bolt upright the next second, and she clutched her head in one hand as the pain increased. Her eyes darted around the strange location. Apprehension and suspicion made her breathing grow tight, and blood whooshed in her ears. A hand grasped her shoulder and she flinched.

"Relax." The soft voice commanded, and against her will she found her body obeying. A moment passed and she was breathing normally again, her thoughts forming coherent patterns. A sigh came from the other occupant of the room, and she finally got a good look at him.

"Jane? Wha'?" She mumbled groggily, and he chuckled again, the low sound reverberating down his arm and into her shoulder.

"Yes, and might I say, alcohol consumption does not brighten your usual morning disposition." Stumped, she finally came to a realization.

"I'm... in your house?" He nodded, an arrogant smirk on his lips. Surreptitiously, she tried to determine if she was still wearing all her clothes. Unfortunately, as could be expected, Jane caught her.

"Really, Lisbon?" He scoffed. "You think so little of my morals that you imagine I would take advantage of your poor intoxicated self?"

"I was just checking!" She defended quite lamely. He raised his eyebrows but otherwise said nothing.

There was an awkward silence before he admitted, "Though I did have an idea for an excellent prank. I would turn your shirt around while you slept and litter the floor with innumerable empty condom wrappers. It would have been brilliant, you'd be so appalled!" He joined her on the bed with a smile and his hands clasped over his lap. "But, alas, it appears I have some scruples after all." She couldn't help grinning back a little, and turned away to inspect the room. She couldn't recall ever being here before. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd fallen asleep at a table. Had Jane carried her here?

In any case, it was exceedingly bare. The bed felt crisp and hard (and not very much used, she noted sadly). The window had no curtains or shades, allowing the light she so despised to charge in unfettered. The walls were painted a pale shade of blue (not unlike his eyes) that was chipping around the moulding. A closed door, the only one there, lead out into what she presumed was the hallway. The only other feature was a ceiling fan that, judging by the stray wires poking out, appeared to be broken.

It reinforced her notion that he'd found this apartment during a particularly bad bout of self-loathing.

When she looked back at Jane she was startled to see he'd been staring at her intently. He glanced down at his hands, twisting his ring. Lisbon cleared her throat, feeling the blush rising despite her best efforts.

"What, exactly, did I... say last night?" She asked haltingly.

"You needn't be so ashamed," He told her. "You've been growing tense for weeks, I should have predicted you would do something drastic. You've unconsciously been gearing to explode." Now Jane faced her, and it was her turn to divert her gaze. He continued tenderly. "It's an anniversary, I'm sure, those always hold meaning for you. This one is especially significant and definitely painful. A death, most likely, though not necessarily. It's alright, you don't have to tell me. I understand some things must remain hidden underneath all that armor." Lisbon didn't reply, and she couldn't help hearing disappointment in his subsequent sigh. She fingered the bed sheets absentmindedly.

"Sorry I stole your bed."

"Meh, what was I gonna use it for anyway."

"And... thank you. For taking care of me."

"My pleasure," He said, sincerity making a rare appearance. Jane stood, patting his thighs and bouncing on the balls of his feet. He offered her his hand which she took. Once she was standing as well, Lisbon gathered her courage.

"I... I didn't really do anything too embarrassing, did I? You would tell me if I did... wouldn't you?"

"Oh that's right," He exclaimed as if (and she didn't buy this for a second) he had just remembered something, "You wanted to sleep with me!" She gaped at him, unsure if he was toying with her or not.

"I... what?"

"Yes! In fact, you came here from the bar with the deliberate intent of seducing me." He was grinning at her now, like the cat who ate the canary. "Unfortunately, you got too tired and considered it too much of an effort."

"No... You're just playing me." She said, even as she had a sinking feeling he was telling the truth. Jane shook his head.

"Though, you were right of course," He added, a touch of seriousness permeating his words, "It would have been a waste of time." She looked down, her eyes subconsciously catching his ring finger. Before she had a moment to ponder where the gold glint had gone, Teresa felt a soft flutter as Patrick dipped down and gave her a whisper of a kiss. It was light and brief despite how much it affected her, like a jolt of electricity. When it was over, he lingered merely an inch away from her lips. His eyes were shut, and as he spoke, her eyelids fluttered against the heady sensation of his sweet warm breath upon her skin.

"I already want to have sex with you."

* * *

**Aww... I liked writing that! I'm so sad to see it go! Sigh, I guess I'll have to rely on reviewers like you to make it through my subsequent depression.**

**Anyway. I just got back from a trip to Bermuda, where the drinking age is 18. So... I drank. Since then, I was inspired to write something based off of my newfound experience with alcohol. I learned I have a surprisingly high tolerance and very mild hangovers, and while I do lose some motor control and am more emotional, I'm capable of having very intellectual discussions and using big words without slurring. Since I am petite, this was a bit of a shock to me. I thought of Lisbon, who while being extremely small is such a badass, and decided to attribute these qualities to her.**

**I have to admit though... the entire reason I wrote this fic is to get Lisbon to make a "Your face" joke. Once I thought of that, I was hooked.**

**Also, the "I hate people, why do they exist" thing is something I often say when I'm upset. I feel it covers basically everything that's wrong with my life. So... I included that too.**

**Basically, just tell me what you think. And please tell me if you liked the dialogue, that's my favorite part!**

**Lovez,**

**Laury!**


End file.
